How Forever Feels (18 page)

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Authors: Laura Drewry

BOOK: How Forever Feels
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“But giving something to Will meant giving something to her.”

“Stupid, right?”

“No.” One word, spoken so clearly, with such certainty, he almost believed her. “Not at all, it's just that…”

“Shit,”
he muttered. “What?”

“Everything you told me makes me sick. I hate that you told me and at the same time I hate that you didn't tell me sooner.” Lifting her cold, wet hand, she threaded her fingers through his, dangling over her shoulder, and looked up at him with a soft Snip smile. “But all you've done by telling me is make this harder.”

“How's that?” God he loved the way her hand felt in his. So much smaller, and a hell of a lot softer; yet with that simple touch, she had the power to drop him to his knees.

“Well, in case you forgot,” she said. “I thought you were a pretty good guy before we came out here in this monsoon, but now…”

“Snip.” He smoothed his thumb over the top of her hand, slowly, wishing he could stop yet happy he couldn't.

“I'm just sayin'.” Her cheeks pinked a little as her smile warmed. “It was hard enough to work around this loyalty thing before, but now that I know just how deep it goes, you've gone and made me…
like
you…even more, so how am I supposed to work around that, huh?”

“Four years,” he muttered, chuckling quietly. “Four years and I'll be damned if I have the first clue.”

“Okay, well…tell me something awful about you, then. Maybe that'll help.”

“Just one thing?” he snorted. “There's a whole list.”

“Let's hear it, then, smart ass. Come on, give me something to hate.”

“I snore.”

“I already know that. You slept on our couch a few times, remember?” They both winced a little at that.

“I spend way too much time in front of gaming consoles.”

“Doesn't count,” she said, shaking her head. “It's part of your job.”

“Okay, well, I suck at math.”

“So do I.”

“Not like me.” He laughed. “I leave the toilet seat up.”

“I leave it down.”

“I burp and fart and blame it on Pete.”

Her head dipped, she laughed, soft and gentle, then…yup…the snort.

“If you think guys are the only ones who burp and fart, you're living in a dream world, my friend. The difference is that women don't go at it like it's an Olympic sport, that's all. And we don't blame the dog!”

Jack stared down at her, laughing over his disbelief. “Not gonna lie, Snip, you're starting to gross me out.”

“Good. Give me something else.”

“Okay.” He chuckled. “When I spill something on the floor, I call Pete over to lick it up.”

“Big deal, I usually use my sock.”

“I drop the F-bomb a lot.”

Maya turned her frowning face up to him. “No you don't.”

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded, his eyes wide. “I do.”

“I don't think I've ever heard it come out of your mouth.”

“Well, I don't usually drop it in front of women.” He laughed, lifting his hands. “I've got a little bit of class, you know.”

“Is that right?” she scoffed. “ 'Cause I could have sworn it was you a second ago who admitted to blaming the dog for—”

“That's different; Pete's a guy, he gets it.”

“Whatever. Moving on.”

“Hmm, let me think for a second. Okay, I got it, and this is something I take very seriously, Snip, so you need to either get on board or hit the road, got it?”

Her only response was to tip her face up at him as she smirked.

“Toilet paper,” he said, drawing each syllable out slowly. “Should roll from the bottom.”

“Oh my God, that's it.” She pulled her hand free and stepped away from him, laughing, but leaving a huge gaping space in those few inches. “We're
so
done.”

The last curve of the trail opened up behind the ninth tee giving a full view of the hotel and restaurant, so while he hated that she'd let him go, it was probably for the best. In a town this size, they were sure to be seen by someone who knew someone who'd be only too happy to elaborate on the fact that Jack was holding Maya's hand.

There wasn't anyone on the tee, not in rain like that, but inside the restaurant, the tables along the window were already full and a couple people waved at Maya.

“So.” Needing something to do with his hand, Jack unzipped his jacket while they were still in the elevator. “What's next? Want me to take you home?”

“No.” Her eyes, so blue and so wide, blinked back at him. “Unless you want me to go, then yeah.”

Jack didn't even answer, just pressed his hand against the edge of the door when it slid open and waved her out ahead of him.

Pete was waiting for them, tail wagging, when they opened the door, and the first thing Maya did was drop to her knees so she could give him a thorough rub.

“Sweetie Petey,” she murmured. “Such a good boy, aren't you?”

Jack edged by them and made his way to the other side of the room. Distance was good. “So what d'you want to do?”

“I don't know.” Pushing herself to her feet, she cast a slow glance around the room, and while Jack might have imagined it, she seemed to purposely avoid letting her gaze linger on or anywhere near the bed. “We could play your Apollo game.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure, why not? Dibs on Mercy.” When he gaped back at her, she just rolled her eyes. “You can't be friends with Nick and Carter and not play the Apollo games, Jack, and Mercy's got the fastest ship.”

“Being fast doesn't make it better, it just—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. You gonna stand there flappin' your gums or are you gonna set it up?”

Controller in hand, his ball cap still on her head, Maya hopped up on the bed and sat cross-legged while he set up the game and pulled over a chair.

“Remember,” he said, chuckling. “We're a team, we work together.”

“I know!” Clicking her tongue, she flapped the controller toward the console with about as much patience as a three-year-old waiting for an ice-cream cone. “What's up first? Sector Selwyn, okay, good, that's the easy one.”

The game started and they whizzed through the galaxy, dodging space junk and enemy ships as they raced for Selwyn. Leaning his elbows on his knees, Jack held the controller loosely between his hands, while Maya…well, shit he didn't know what the hell she was doing.

With her gaze focused squarely on the screen and her tongue clenched between her teeth, Maya gripped her controller like a madwoman, leaning forward, then to the side, twisting the controller upwards, then down, sideways, and at one point, she pulled it straight back toward her chest like she was reeling in a fish or something.

The whole time she let out noises like Jack had never heard, part grunt, part curse, part celebration; it was all one long sound rolling out of her and not once did she take her eyes off the screen.

Jack had played
Apollo2
a lot, but he'd never played with someone who sucked as badly as she did. If she wasn't so determined, or so damn cute sitting there with her tongue stuck out like that, he would have ended it before they made it halfway to Selwyn, but then she actually managed to hit the fire button on time for once and took out one of the enemy speeders.

It was the only time she ever took her eyes off the TV and it was to look at Jack, her face lighting up like she'd just seen her first Christmas tree and her eyes dancing as if to say “pretty good, eh?” and then quick as lightning she was back to the game.

She crashed her ship on landing, but that didn't slow her down; she simply jerked the controller around some more until Mercy somehow made it out of the ship and stumbled down to where Jack's character, Kingle, was waiting.

“Hi.”

It was like she thought she really was Mercy, and that Kingle could hear her; so even though it was killing him to hold it in, Jack swallowed his laughter and replied.

“Hi.”

“Okay, we need to collect the weapons before we get over to the flats. Go!”

If he thought she sucked before, that was nothing compared to this part of the game. Every time she jerked the controller, Mercy either fell over or ran into something, but Maya never once lost concentration, she just barreled on, barking out instructions to Jack as though he'd never played before, and because it was the best time he'd had in a long time, he did everything she told him to, and then apologized every time Kingle got shot or knocked down.

It was a damn good thing Mercy and Kingle weren't real or they'd have been dead a dozen times over by the time they finally got to the flats.

“Oh, come on!” Maya cried, throwing her hands up. “How did we
not
get there in time? What the hell's wrong with this game anyway?”

“I-I-I don't know.”

“You made it—how can you not know?” Shaking her head in disgust, she finally turned to look at Jack who was frantically trying to stop the tears that poured out the corners of his eyes. “What's so funny?”

She was so indignant, so offended, it just made him laugh harder.

“Oh for God's sake,” she grunted. “Let's go again, but this time, get your shit together, will ya?”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “Sorry. I'll do better this time. Are you ready?”

“Of course
I'm
ready. Are
you
?”

Chapter 12

“Everything you need to know is in that first kiss.”

Rachel Green,
Friends,
“The One with the Sonogram at the End”

They'd tried—and failed—about a dozen times to get their characters safely to Selwyn before packing it in. If Jack hadn't laughed all the way through every game, they might have had a chance; next time Maya would partner with one of the system's characters.

He took her down to the restaurant for dinner, where she got him talking about the gaming world. The more he tried to downplay it, the more she pushed until she knew all about the team he'd be working with on the new Apollo game and how many people TMJ had working on the new line of racing games they were producing.

So many times he tried to steer the conversation to something about her, but Maya wasn't having it; she wanted to know everything she'd missed in the last couple of years—including his private life.

It was the first time in hours he didn't show any hint of a smile.

“Come on, Jack, what's the big deal? Has there been anyone serious since Christine?”

She knew he'd answer her eventually. It was Jack. He didn't keep stuff from her; it just took him a while to cough up the information sometimes.

“No.” He sighed. “No one serious.”

“Ah, but there've been some not serious ones, right?”

“Maya.”

“How many?” She was teasing him, loving the way his face pinked up so fast. “Six? Seven?”

“I'm not—”

“More?” Gaping, she mouthed a silent “wow.” “Jeez, Jack.”

“None.” He ground the word out, his mouth barely opening, his eyes focused straight back on her. “There's been no one since Christine.”

He had to be kidding. Any second now he'd start to smile, one of those big goofy grins of his, and then…but he wasn't smiling. He just licked his bottom lip, sucked it in behind his top teeth, and sighed.

Maya waited another second or two, then leaned in a little closer. “No one? But you and Christine broke up a while ago.”

“Thank you,” he growled. “I'm aware of that.”

“Right. Sorry.”

It wasn't funny; at least he didn't look amused, so she probably shouldn't be snickering at him, but she couldn't help it. Maybe she wasn't the only one whose parts were on high alert lately.

They talked about Maya's parents, how much they enjoyed their trip to Red Deer over Thanksgiving, and how they were now talking about moving out there since that's where their grandchildren were.

It was the perfect opening to tell Jack about Griffin, but for the life of her, Maya couldn't get the words off her tongue. Not tonight. They'd had such a great day, and if he reacted the way Nick seemed to think he was going to, it would ruin everything. Besides, she still wasn't a hundred percent sure what she was going to do.

So instead, she reminded him that he owed her a movie and popcorn, and since their choices were a horror movie, a chick flick, or the latest animated 3-D kids' show, they ended up sitting in the very back row with paper glasses on, sharing a bucket of popcorn.

“You wanna come up?” They'd parked behind her apartment, but neither one had made a move to get out of the Jeep.

His hesitation answered before his mouth even opened. “Probably not a good idea.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I know; I'm just not ready for today to end yet.”

Nodding slowly, his soft eyes searched her face for a second before he finally shoved his door open. “Come on, I'll walk you up.”

It was only about twenty feet from where they were parked to the door, but it was twenty more feet she'd get to spend with him, so she wasn't about to tell him it wasn't necessary. Neither of them hurried toward the door, but neither one of them said anything either, not until she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

“Okay,” she said, trying to sound light yet somehow ending up sounding tight and brittle. “No boogeyman here, I'm good.”

“All right then. I'll see you later.”

Nodding, Maya tipped her face up a little so he could kiss her cheek, but the closer he got, the harder it was
not
to turn toward him. And when he hesitated, even though it couldn't have been more than a fraction of a second, she had to look down, to close her eyes, to breathe.

With the crook of his finger, he eased her face back up, haltingly, as though he was just as terrified as she was, but that couldn't be possible. Why couldn't she stop blinking so fast? And why wasn't he blinking at all? His velvety eyes moved over her face slowly, like it was the first time he'd ever seen her. Every passing second made her pulse race faster, her heart pound harder, and her muscles crumble, until she had to wrap her fingers around his bent arm to keep her balance.

Swallowing hard, he licked his lips and leaned in closer, his gaze locked on hers.

“You're killing me here, Snip. I…” Blowing out a low breath, he pulled his hand away and stepped back. “I should go.”

Head down, he took another step back, his eyes now fixed on the ground, sending Maya into a full-on scramble. She didn't want him to back up, didn't want him to walk away from her right then, and if she didn't do something quick, that's exactly what was going to happen.

She shouldn't kiss him; if she had any decency in her, she'd let him keep walking and they'd just keep things the way they'd been going. It wasn't what either of them wanted, but if they took this any further…

Screw it!
Why should she give the first shit what the Carsons thought?

She wanted Jack, but it was more than that, and no matter how hard she'd tried to deny it since talking to Jayne and Nick last night, there was no getting around it. It didn't make sense and yet…oh jeez…it was the only thing that
did
make sense. She loved Jack. No, she didn't just love him, she was
in love
with him, and nothing else should matter, not the Carsons, not Griffin Carr, nothing. And no one.

Oh God
.

Okay, one of two things was going to happen here: Either he'd kiss her back and everything would be…
wow…
or he'd bolt. There'd be no middle ground on this and she had to move fast before he took one more step away from her.

On trembling knees, she closed the distance between them, then hesitated a second when he looked down at her like that, so sure, yet so very, very tortured. Fat raindrops ran down both of their faces, sliding off the end of his nose and weighing down her eyelashes, but neither of them made any move to wipe them away.

His mouth was open, just slightly, and his broad chest heaved in and out with each breath. She set her hands flat against him, the thundering of his heart beneath her touch pushing her on, coaxing her hands up higher.

She slid them up around his neck, smiling a little when she saw his Adam's apple bob so hard, pushed herself up on tiptoes, and gazed into his eyes for a whole second before she finally kissed him.

Not a tentative shy kiss, either.
Hells to the no with that
. If this was going to be the only kiss she got from him, she was going to make it count, and that wasn't easy, being as short as she was. Her toes and calves cramped, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the feel of his mouth on hers, the way his lips were stronger and softer than she imagined, the way he tasted like rain, and how for that one moment, nothing else mattered.

When he set his hands on her waist she thought he might push her away, but then his fingers curled into her as he growled and lifted her straight up so she didn't have to reach anymore.

“Thank God,” she murmured, smiling against his mouth. “My toes were killing me.”

“Snip.”

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she locked her ankles together and took his rain-soaked face between her hands, but before she kissed him again, she had to at least give him the chance to end it right there before they took it another step further.

“You know what I want,” she whispered, her voice thick. “But you're the one who has to live with the consequences, Jack, so if you're going to walk away from me, please do it now, and please do it quick.”

He stared down at her for a long time, a silent but very real war raging behind his eyes, and when he finally sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, she almost cheered, but the bubble burst in her throat when his hands slid along the length of her legs, around his back, and slowly unhooked her ankles.

Maya slid down the length of him until her toes touched the ground, and the second they did, she let him go and stumbled back a couple steps, fighting for balance. God, she was stupid. What did she think he was going to do? It had been, what, eight or nine hours since he told her why he was the way he was with the Carsons. Did she really think that was going to change?

“I'm sorry.” It took a couple tries but she finally managed to croak out the words. “I shouldn't have done that. I'm…I'm so sorry. “

He reached out his hand, but she shrunk back. “Maya.”

“It's fine.” Thank God for the rain running down her face, it made great camouflage for the tears she couldn't stop. She did manage to smile, though, big and bright and painful as all hell. “Don't worry, Jack, it'll all be fine. We had a good day, didn't we? For the most part, I mean, you know, not the part where you told me…Well, yeah, okay. I'll see you…later, I guess. Okay? Okay. “

Without a single glance back, she walked straight inside, locked the door behind her, and stumbled up the stairs, not slowing down until she'd changed out of her wet clothes, had dried her eyes three times, and was standing there staring at the boxes of tea clutched in her hands.

Great freakin' time to be out of wine.

The day had been pretty much perfect right until she screwed it up. He'd spent four years not touching her, not kissing her, not even telling her how he felt, and it had helped build an amazing friendship between them until she'd bulldozed her way into it, basically told him she wanted to jump his bones, and then, yeah…pretty much doing just that.

The kettle boiled and cooled twice as she stood there trying to come up with someone to blame for her misery. All she wanted was to spend the next fifty or sixty years with Jack—and at least half of that time she'd like for them to be naked—was that too much to ask for? Apparently it was because instead of getting naked with him, she was standing in her kitchen in her oversized nightshirt, tights, and wool socks trying to choose between Lemon Zinger and Darjeeling.

It wasn't right and someone needed to be blamed, but who?

Jack? He'd been tortured and bullied to the point he thought he was going to die before the Carsons came along, so the only thing she could blame him for was having such an infuriating sense of loyalty. And, okay, it was his fault he was so freakin' adorable that she couldn't think about anything else most of the time.

Will? Of course she could blame Will—she blamed him for pretty much everything anyway, but this time it actually was partly his fault. If he hadn't pushed his way between her and Jack at that stupid Hawaiian party, things might have been different. Maybe.

If she was going to blame Will, though, she'd have to shoulder some of the blame herself, too. She could have told him to piss off that night at the party, she could have finished her drink with Jack, but she didn't, because she'd been so caught up with how good-looking and charming Will was. Served her right.

Genie Carson? Damn right she'd blame her for some of this. She might have “saved” Jack, but what kind of woman lorded that over a grown man the way she had at the rehearsal dinner? Mostly, though, Maya blamed the little shitheads who'd tortured Jack so badly. It all started with them.

And so help her if she ever met up with one of them.

—

It was almost midnight when Jack pulled into Genie's driveway. Way too late to be arriving at anyone's house, but he'd called her from the road and woken her up, so she was already holding the door open in her white fluffy slippers and matching robe when he arrived.

“Jack, sweetheart, what's wrong? Come in out of the rain.”

Aside from the overstuffed La-Z-Boy in the corner, the living room hadn't changed much in the twenty years Jack had known it, and neither had Genie, not really. Okay, maybe she didn't have skin like those women in the Olay commercials anymore, but she was still a fine-looking woman and having just celebrated her sixty-fifth birthday, there was no doubt she'd outlive all those Olay models anyway.

“What can I get you?” She pulled her long blond braid forward and twisted the end, a sure sign she was worried. “Coffee? A beer?”

“No, nothing,” he said, a little surprised at how tired his voice sounded. “Thanks. I just, uh, I just need to tell you something.”

On wooden legs, he stumbled over to Burt's chair and plunked himself down before he fell.

“Good grief, what is it? Is it Will? Tammy?” Genie's hands flew to her chest as she sank down on the couch. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, God, sorry, Genie, they're fine. Everyone's fine. This is…it's me.”

“Okay, well whatever it is, boy, just say it. You're scaring the bejeezus out of me.”

He was scaring the bejeezus out of himself, too. If he couldn't make Genie understand, he was going to have to choose one or the other and the thought of doing that made him want to puke. In fact, where was that…okay, good…she still kept the small trash bin next to Burt's chair. The man had been dead for three years, but the bin stayed right there just in case someone else wanted to pick up where he'd left off, sitting in his chair, shelling pistachios, and yelling at either the Canucks or the Lions, depending on what time of year it was.

Jack's heart was racing just as fast as it did the first time he'd walked through her door, terrified she'd send him away.

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